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Authors: Peter May

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General

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BOOK: The Killing Room
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‘I am honoured that you should even know who I am, Director Hu,’ Li said, and he remembered the Chinese proverb,
the nail that sticks up gets hammered down
.

‘You cast a large shadow, Detective Li. Big enough, perhaps, to eclipse that of your uncle.’

‘I have always lived in my uncle’s shadow, Director Hu. I expect always to do so.’

The adviser nodded, satisfied. Modesty was a virtue. He waved a hand in the direction of the taller man beside him. ‘This is Procurator General Yue.’ The Procurator General inclined his head in a curt, cold nod. ‘You have visited the site where the bodies were found?’

‘I have seen the bodies, or the bits of them that have been recovered.’

‘And what are your thoughts?’

Li hesitated. He felt as if he were being tested somehow. ‘It is too early to reach any conclusions, Director Hu.’

The adviser nodded again, apparently satisfied by this response. ‘A single word is worth a thousand pieces of gold,’ he said. He glanced momentarily at Huang who sat mute diagonally opposite, a black hole of disapproval in the corner of the car. ‘This … incident …’ the adviser was picking his words very carefully, ‘… is not only a severe embarrassment to our country, Li, captured as it was on live television across the world, but it could also seriously damage Shanghai’s inward investment – the lifeblood of this city.’ Li wondered if anyone cared about the serious damage done to the health of the victims, but he knew better than to ask as much. The adviser continued, ‘What we have here is a high profile crime of appalling magnitude, uncovered in the full glare of world publicity. What the Mayor wants is a high profile solution in the shortest possible time, and in the full glare of the same publicity.’ He drew in a short breath. ‘Which is why he wants you to take charge of the investigation.’

And Li understood immediately why Huang was so resentful of his presence, and why Procurator General Yue was being equally cool.

‘Of course, Director Hu,’ he said cautiously, ‘I would be only too happy to assist in the investigation. But, naturally, I will have to seek permission from my superiors in Beijing.’

The Director waved his hand dismissively. ‘It’s already done, Li,’ he said. ‘The Commissioner of Police in Beijing is happy to lend you to us for the duration of the investigation.’ He leaned forward. ‘But we don’t want you assisting. The Mayor wants you to lead the inquiry. Which means he will hold you personally responsible for any failure to bring it to a satisfactory conclusion.’

Li knew now that he
was
that nail that sticks up, and it felt like a very lonely thing to be. He said, ‘In that case, I have one request, Director Hu.’

‘Speak,’ the Director said.

‘I have had only the briefest opportunity to make an assessment of this case, but it seems to me that because of its nature, the pathology will be of paramount importance. I would therefore ask that I am allowed to employ the services of the American pathologist, Margaret Campbell.’

Huang immediately started to voice his protest, becoming animated for the first time, but the Director raised a hand to silence him. ‘Why?’ he asked Li.

Li said, ‘While I have every confidence in Dr Lan, Miss Campbell is infinitely more experienced. The Americans, after all, are more practised in the art of murder.’ Which raised a smile from the Director for the first time. Li pressed on, ‘She has worked in China, so she knows how we operate.’ He paused. ‘And if you want a high-profile solution, then a high-profile collaboration between the Chinese and the Americans would be good public relations.’

The Director sat back and smiled. ‘I’m glad to see we’re on the same wavelength, Li. Huang and Yue will facilitate all your requirements.’

Huang and Yue looked as if they would like to facilitate Li’s speedy demise.

The Director pressed a button and told his driver to pull over. The driver informed the police escort by radio, then pulled the car in at the side of the road. The entourage followed suit. ‘Good luck,’ the Director said to Li as the door sprang open, and Li realised he was expected to get out.

He stepped out into the rain, followed by Huang. The pavement was crowded with curious on-lookers, the deafening blare of police sirens filling the night air. Director Hu’s entourage of cars moved off again and Li looked at Huang. ‘What now?’

‘We get a taxi back to my car,’ Huang said through clenched teeth, and he pulled up his collar against the rain. ‘And I don’t give a shit what Director Hu says. You report to me. Understood?’

CHAPTER TWO

I

The briefing meeting lasted less than half an hour. Before it, Li had had a fifteen minute meeting with Huang and the Shanghai Deputy Commissioner of Police, finalising details of Margaret’s inclusion in the investigating team. He had then requested the use of a computer with Internet access and filed a lengthy e-mail to an aol.com address.

There were nearly twenty detectives in the meeting room, ranged around a group of tables pushed together to make a large rectangle. Most of the officers were smoking, and their smoke filled the room like fog. Mei-Ling glanced curiously at Li and Huang as they made their entrance. She had not been made privy to their discussions with the Deputy Commissioner. But she showed no surprise when Huang announced that he was putting Li in charge of the investigation, in collaboration with his deputy. All eyes around the table flickered towards Li, eyes that harboured both interest and hostility. There was no love lost between Shanghai and Beijing.

The briefing consisted of an update on what little they already knew. Statements were quickly accumulating, taken from everybody who had been at the ceremony at Lujiazui that morning. One of the detectives had discovered that there was a night watchman at the site. They had made every attempt to locate him during the day, without success, but he was due back on-site at seven. A number of detectives consulted their watches and realised it was already past that. Mei-Ling brought the meeting up to date on the body count, and Dr Lan’s initial thoughts. The fact that partial autopsies had already been carried out on the victims created quite a stir around the table. But there were no constructive suggestions.

Li then took control. He looked at the rows of guarded eyes looking back at him. He fumbled in his pockets. ‘Anyone got a cigarette? I seem to have run out.’ Several of the officers nearest him immediately held out packs. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘So now we know who the brown-noses are.’ There was a big laugh around the table, except from those holding out the packs. Li grinned. ‘Only kidding, guys.’ And he took a cigarette from the nearest pack, and everyone was aware of an immediate easing of the tension in the room. He lit up and leaned forward on his elbows. ‘If I was a betting man,’ he said, ‘which of course I’m not, because it’s illegal …’ which got another laugh, ‘… I’d put my money on finding most of our victims in the missing persons files. So it would probably be a good start if we got hold of those files and extracted details on all women between the ages of, say, fifteen and forty. We’re not going to know who killed them, or why, until we know who they are. So our priority should be trying to identify them as quickly as possible. And here’s a thought …’ You could have heard a pin drop in the silence. ‘We found eighteen bodies in a mass grave today. But there could be other graves, other bodies. And there might be other women going about their everyday lives as we sit here, who’re going to end up in one of those graves. So we owe it as much to the living, as to the dead, to get this guy as quickly as we can.’

When the meeting broke up, Huang hurried out without even looking at Li. Mei-Ling approached him. ‘Well done,’ she said. ‘That could have been nasty.’ He grinned and took out a pack of cigarettes, and lit one. She smiled. ‘I thought you’d run out.’

‘They were in an inside pocket.’ As an afterthought he held out the pack towards her. ‘I’m sorry, do you smoke?’

She shook her head. ‘I’ve seen first hand what it does to the lungs.’ She paused. ‘So what now?’

‘I’d like to go back to the site. See if that night watchman’s shown up yet.’

*

When they arrived back at Lujiazui, the officer on duty at the gate told them that the night watchman had turned up about half an hour earlier and was ensconced in his hut on the far side of the site.

Pathologists and forensics experts still sweated in white plastic suits beneath the floodlights and the polythene sheeting in their gruesome search for any remaining body parts. Digging in the wet, nearly liquid, mud was close to impossible. For several minutes Li stopped and watched their thankless labours, aware of the presence of Mei-Ling’s burning, unasked questions at his side. In the car, she had resisted the temptation to ask about the meeting with Director Hu, and afterwards with the Deputy Commissioner. But now she was barely able to contain her curiosity. He turned and caught her watching him. Rain glistened on her face in the light of the flood lamps and he thought how attractive she was. ‘I guess it wasn’t Huang’s idea to put you in charge of the investigation,’ she said finally. It didn’t sound like a question to Li.

‘I think Huang would have been happier to bury me in the mud with the CEO of the New York bank,’ he said.

Mei-Ling shrugged. ‘Like I said, don’t take it personally. Huang has problems right now.’

‘Yeah, like an extreme loss of face.’ Li was treading carefully. He had no idea how loyal, or otherwise, Mei-Ling might be to her boss. ‘It must be pretty humiliating to have the Mayor’s policy adviser appoint a junior officer over your head.’

Mei-Ling chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. ‘But I doubt if losing face means much next to losing the person you love,’ she said.

Li frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that his wife’s terminally ill. And from the sound of it, I don’t think she has long to live. So don’t flatter yourself, you probably don’t come very high on his list of priorities at the moment.’

Li lit a cigarette and drew on it thoughtfully. It certainly explained, if not exactly justifying, the man’s lack of courtesy. ‘Let’s go talk to the night watchman,’ he said.

They picked their way through the mud and puddles to a small blue-painted wooden hut at the rear of the site. A light blazed at the window, and through it they could see a young man leaning back in an old wooden armchair, feet up on the table, nursing a jar of cold green tea and watching a small portable television. He stood up as soon as they came in, apparently excited by their visit. He drew up two stools for them to sit on, but Li declined the offer. ‘I don’t mind answering anything you want to ask,’ the watchman said. ‘I told the cops I spoke to when I arrived everything I know, but I want to help any way I can. You want some tea?’

Li shook his head and drew on his cigarette. ‘You worked here long?’

‘Only for a couple of months, since they started delivering materials to the site.’ The young man waved a finger at Li’s cigarette. ‘Those things’ll kill you, you know. You ever seen the inside of a smoker’s lungs?’

Li glanced at Mei-Ling, the echo of her earlier words resonating silently between them. Then he took a good look at the night watchman. He figured the boy was no more than twenty-one or twenty-two. He wore jeans and good boots, and a warm winter coat over a heavy jumper. A pair of thermal gloves lay on the table beside a pile of magazines. There was no heating in the hut.

‘And you have seen the inside of a smoker’s lungs?’ Mei-Ling asked.

‘Sure,’ the young man said. ‘They’re all black and full of holes and kind of slimy and pickled-looking. Put me off smoking for life.’

‘And how would
you
get to look at the inside of someone’s lungs?’ Li said.

‘Easy. You always section the lungs when you do an autopsy.’ He grinned at their consternation. ‘Hey,’ he said, ‘night watchman on a building site is not my idea of a career plan.’

Li said, ‘And what is your career plan?’

‘Surgery. Or pathology. I haven’t quite decided yet. But probably pathology. That way I get trained in forensics, too, and get to work with you guys on cases like this. Spooky stuff, huh?’

Li and Mei-Ling exchanged glances. ‘Are you saying you’re a doctor?’ Li asked.

‘Medical student,’ the young man said. ‘At Shanghai Medical University, out in Xuhui District.’ He put out his hand to shake theirs. ‘Jiang Baofu,’ he said. ‘I heard what had happened earlier today. The university was buzzing with it. I couldn’t wait to get back here tonight. But they won’t let me see anything.’ He seemed disappointed. ‘You know, I nearly stayed on this morning to watch the ceremony. But we had practical surgery today, and I never miss that.’

‘So this is just part-time?’ Li said.

‘Sure,’ said Jiang. ‘I’m not like some of those rich kids at the university. My parents died when I was just young. I live with my grandparents back home, and no way can they afford to put me through med school. I work nights and holidays, anything I can get. Usually at one of the hospitals, but this paid better.’ He waved his hand vaguely at the window. ‘Not that anyone’s going to steal anything here. But the Americans are fussy about security. That’s why the money’s so good.’

Mei-Ling said, ‘Clearly, then, they didn’t get their money’s worth when the night watchman didn’t even notice someone digging a hole big enough to dump eighteen bodies in.’

The medical student looked hurt. ‘Hey, how am I supposed to keep an eye on the whole place? It’s pitch black out there after ten at night. They don’t even give me a flashlight.’

‘But whoever buried those bodies must have had light to work by. You’d have seen that surely?’ Mei-Ling’s directness impressed Li.

‘Not if I was sleeping.’ Jiang was getting defensive now.

‘But weren’t you supposed to be on watch?’ Mei-Ling wasn’t going to let him off the hook. ‘I mean, isn’t that what a night watchman’s supposed to do? Watch?’

‘Maybe he was too busy watching TV,’ Li said. He glanced at the set, which was tuned in to the Hong Kong music channel, ‘V’. ‘How come they don’t give you a flashlight but they provide you with a television set?’

BOOK: The Killing Room
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